Above oiled silk parasols
And tilted top hats
Ascend
Above waxed mustaches
Propped up by astonished mouths
With widened eyes
Assaulted eyes
Raining monocles
To swing like pendulums
From laundered vests
Hover
Above turquoise railings
Over barnacled piles
Mantled by
Weather-beaten boards
Float
Along gently
With the thick salt air
Past Palace Pier
And her pebble shore
Drift
On out to where
Grey sea greets grey sky
The neutral womb
Of a muddled horizon
